


Never Knew I Could Feel Like This, Like I've Never Seen the Sky Before

by RiddleMeEvil



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: BABY HOW MANY ADJECTIVES CAN YOU FIND FOR BABY, Drama, F/M, First Time Parenting, I will give them a happy ending if it's the last thing I do, Obitine, Pre-TPM Obitine, Romance, The Obitine baby fic that had to happen, They deserved better so this happened, Young Obi-Wan and Satine, beginning a little angsty but it gets better trust me, cuteness and lots of fluff, swimming in fluff, the FIX IT to your ridiculously depressing chapter four scene MASTER
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 15:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11164485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddleMeEvil/pseuds/RiddleMeEvil
Summary: What if things were different? What if Obi-Wan and Satine hadn't lost so much, and their galaxy was made complete?The VERY MUCH NEEDED fix-it to Obi_TheKenobi's fic.Please be aware of the major fluff.





	Never Knew I Could Feel Like This, Like I've Never Seen the Sky Before

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Obi_theKenobi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obi_theKenobi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Amid the Shadow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756650) by [Obi_theKenobi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obi_theKenobi/pseuds/Obi_theKenobi). 



> So. *clears throat* I've been reading my dear friend, Obi_TheKenobi's beautiful, heart wrenching fic, Amid the Shadow, and I died a little more every time Obi-Wan and Satine's loss was brought up, so with her permission I've taken the story and twisted it into what it SHOULD have been... 
> 
> *glares at you, Master, you know what you've done to me!!!! <3* 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy. And if you'd like to read the fic this came from, I suggest you click on the above link :) I sincerely hope it works, by the way, linking directions on here are either not very clear or I'm just an idiot.
> 
> I promise it's more than worth it. Happy Saturday!!!!! 
> 
> Also, the title is from Come What May-Moulin Rouge.

He touched down planetside at sunset, the last golden rays barely staining the sky as he flew inside the tall building. He had gasped out a name- _her_ name- and the room number, his voice and face distraught and agonized, and a concerned man in dark grey had shown him into the hospital corridors, where the Jedi had taken off at an incredible speed, leaving the speechless, stunned man behind.

He practically _flew_ down the sterile, white corridors, speeding past closed doors and hallways without giving them a second thought or glance. His heartbeat was pounding, his pulse speeding faster than it ever had before, blood rushing in his ears, through his veins and terror rising, churning deep in his gut, his stomach and intestines twisting with every step he made. His breath came in short, painful gasps, the burning in his lungs intensifying with each forward move he made, but he did not care; he _relished_ the sting, as it reminded him constantly to move more swiftly, to _hurry_ \- to _fly_  as quickly as humanly possible to his destination. Just one thing was on his mind, taking over all his senses and his entire galaxy, and it only made him move faster, desperation evident on his face and in the urgency of his steps.

He could see his destination- there, at the end of the hall, the last door on the left. He sped up, the sound of his lightsaber hitting his thigh and his boots slapping against the hard tiles below his feet thumping in his ears- or was that his heartbeat? It could have been both, the drumbeat of life and death echoing endlessly in his ears, his bloodstream, the rhythm unsteady and unsure. He skidded past an empty stretcher being pushed down the long hall by a blurry figure dressed in white, the Force and his fast reflexes aiding his movements so that he didn't end up facedown on the perfectly clean, bleached pale and colorless tile floor.

Reaching the end of the corridor, he turned into the room, a hand clutching the door frame and his heart fluttering in his throat. Terrified nausea rose even faster, dizziness from lack of sleep and the pure terror he'd felt since that awful, terrible comm call he'd received hours earlier blurring his vision. He stepped around the white clad form of the only other standing being in the room, another healer heading out the door, barely even noticing the being's presence. His eyes searched desperately and then landed on the bed, taking in every fold of the blankets and the faint scent of blood and standard cleaner that had been used in the room recently.

A part of his mind meticulously catalogued every piece of equipment in the medical room- the still beeping heart monitor, the pile of blood and fluid soaked fabrics in a sealed bag in the corner, the IV line strung from the pole it hung on to the startlingly blue veins of a pale, pale arm- almost the color of the sheets. He froze, time standing still for a heart stopping, infinite moment that was somehow hours too short as his gaze fell upon the petite woman propped up on pillows in the bed.

She was clad in a light blue hospital issued gown, sweaty and tangled blonde locks strewn around her head on the pillows like a halo. Her skin was almost ashen, a weary pallor to the usually rosy and pink cheeks, dark circles under her slightly sunken eyes, complete exhaustion in the pained set of her body and her forehead and breast still damp with perspiration from the ordeal. She clutched a tiny bundle of blankets to her chest, her entire body trembling from overwhelming emotion and the devastating pain it had endured, and he found his own mirrored hers-only not from pain, but from excruciating anticipation, brilliant hope, nightmarish terror, and paralyzing dread.

She was gazing down as he entered, eyes- blue as the glorious skies on Naboo- hidden from his view, and for a moment he wished, selfishly, she wouldn't look up, wouldn't see him. He couldn't _bear_  to see the look in her eyes, to knowthe tearing, clenching, _poisonous_  feeling coursing through his gut was the truth, to see her beautiful, loving, joyous gaze turn bleak with sorrow and loss-

She raised her eyes to his, and his breath caught in his throat.

_Her eyes-_

They were _glowing_ , hard won triumph and a deep, all consuming love suffusing the delicate and flawless features of her face. Though she looked on the brink of collapsing, she appeared to be unaware of it, the ecstasy and unimaginable pain she had gone through having forged her anew, transforming the strong, independent, untouchable woman into something even more. He took a stumbling step forward, and then another, collapsing into the chair placed at the bedside, previously unnoticed.

His lips moved and opened of their own accord, but no sound came out, his throat too dry for speech, nerves making it nearly impossible for him to convey the depth of his feeling. He raised trembling fingers to brush over her sweaty cheek, and she smiled at him, exhilarated and proud. It was the most beautiful smile she'd ever given him.

" _Obi-Wan_.." It was his name, it was just his name said in her beautifully hoarse, exhausted voice, but it brought forth a myriad, a swirling tempest of emotions- everything he'd felt aboard his tiny ship for the last few terribly unending hours returning tenfold. He bit his lip and nodded, leaning to press warm lips to her forehead, closing his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall.

"I'm sorry, I'm _so sorry_ , darling, I wasn't here.. I came as quickly as I could..."

Suddenly he couldn't stop speaking, words tumbling out over each other, eager as he was to tell her, reassure her of his love and complete adoration and devotion to her, and she raised a delicate finger, gesturing at the bundle in her arms. Instantly, he was silenced, and his wide eyed, nervous gaze was drawn inexorably to the soft fabrics. There was just a little bit of barely there fuzz visible, and as she moved the light yellow of the soft blanket away- _there_.

 _Force_.

The baby was asleep, its perfect, tiny face still red, the flawless, petite button nose turned up just so, a tiny, tiny hand curled into a fist by its rounded cheek. Its head- smaller than his hand, he was positive- was covered in a downy layer of red-blonde fuzz, and its bare chest rose and fell with each steady breath it took.

His hand slipped from Satine's cheek to hover hesitantly over the baby's, and he shot her an unsure glance. She let out a quiet huff of laughter, shifting her sore body carefully to hold the precious, priceless bundle out for him to take.

He grasped it oh so carefully in his hands, shocked at how very _light_ it was, how it weighed almost nothing, amazed at how _complete_  this tiny, tiny person was.. How  _tiny_ and _perfect_  and _dependent_  on him this little, innocent person was, and cradled its head just as his Satine showed him from the bed. He dragged his eyes from her figure, slumping with a sigh back against the pillows, and looked down at the infant in his arms, pressed to his heart. It shifted, its little head pressing farther into his chest, and he gasped as the delicate eyelids began to flutter.

Their baby was perfect, _so perfect_  in every way- so _tiny_ , so _sweet_  and _innocent_ , his little angel of the Force- he could feel his heart ready to _burst_  with love for the child..

 _His child_.

His and Satine's beautiful child, their _precious_ , little innocent baby, their _angel_ to keep and love, teach and care for always...

In another galaxy, another life, perhaps this would be the moment- the _only_  moment- in which he gazed upon his baby's face, but that baby, his precious angel would be so _still_ , so _cold_  to the touch; no life in its ghostly pale, velvety cheeks, its eyes- the lashes so long and dark, delicately brushing against the rounded cheek- never to open, its chest never rising, mouth never curving into a happy smile or a hungry frown. In that life, this horror would tear him from his lovely Satine forever, rip their hearts to pieces and leave those broken fragments, crumbled shards scattered throughout the universe; force them to live half lives- _cursed_  lives, broken and alone and _grieving_ , always grieving for what they've lost and would never, _ever_  recover... But here, that life was but a nightmare, a nightmare that would never be. Here, his little, darling angel is safe, _alive_  and _warm_ , the steady thrum of its heartbeat fluttering against his own.

Tiny, rosy lips- the exact shape and shade as its mother's- and suddenly perfect fingers with minuscule nails reached to grasp one of his own with a miraculously strong grip for one so small and fragile; bright, impossibly blue eyes blinking open to gaze inquisitively up into his own matching ones. He swallowed convulsively, distantly noticing the tears that streamed from his eyes and down his cheeks, and he ran his thumb over the back of his baby's hand. The infant smiled, its tiny face lighting up, and a little fist waved weakly through the air above the blanket. He felt a nudging in the back of his mind, and slowly, so slowly, reopened his connection to the Force.

He'd been so terrified earlier of what he would find, what he would feel within its immense depths that he had blocked himself from it, and now as he opened his mind he felt a new, bright presence bond to him. He brushed over it, curious, and the baby in his arms hiccuped. He looked down, shocked and amazed, bright blue eyes meeting a matching but much tinier pair of bright blue eyes once more, and a sudden, euphoric laugh burst from his chest.

The presence- the bright, shining, innocent and infinitely _curious_  presence in the Force was _his baby_ , his darling little angel. He was bonded to the little one in the deepest of ways, their instant adoration of each other, the infant's absolute trust in him and his own protectiveness creating an unbreakable link between them.

He pressed the lightest, gentlest, most loving kiss to the tiny, velvety cheek, brushing another over the happy baby's nose and smiling tearfully up at Satine... The baby's mother.

 _Their_ baby's mother.

 _The mother of his child_.

Stars and galaxies, what she'd given him today was worth more than Coruscant, worth more than all the known star systems and more. He'd give up the galaxy, the entire _universe_  for her and their tiny, precious darling.

His beautiful, _wonderful_  Satine.

She smiled back, tears trickling unchecked down her lovely, radiant face as she reached forward to brush his own away. "Obi..." Her voice was low, soft and tender, and her fingers on his cheeks even more so. "Obi-Wan, my love, it's a boy."

He leaned forward with an awestruck sob of pure, unadulterated happiness, their baby- their _son!_ \- pressed carefully between them, an arm around Satine as the other cradled their precious angel. They embraced, tears of happiness and relief trickling down their faces, bursts of joyous laughter lighting up the room, words of love and devotion passing between the two new, young parents as they welcomed their tiny infant son into the galaxy.

In that moment, Obi-Wan knew without a shadow of doubt that he would do anything, absolutely anything for his child, his perfect infant son, no matter what the consequences. He was a father, now, and- if Satine would have him, if she accepted his proposal, the proposal he should have spoken a year ago or earlier- a soon to be husband, and there was _nothing_  that could stop him from choosing his tiny, priceless family instead of the Jedi.

He gazed at Satine's enraptured face with his heart in his eyes, felt the tiny, perfect body of their darling little angel in his arms, and he wept, tears of unrestrained, contented joy rolling down his cheeks, and he pressed fervent, loving kisses to both his son's tiny, tiny face and Satine's exquisite one, over and over repeating words of love and happiness. She laughed through her own tears, smiling delightedly down at their happy little one, tracing a delicate finger down the velvety cheek.

"Obi-Wan," She breathed in awe. "He has your eyes, my Jedi."

He chuckled, nodding in agreement and running a hand reverently over the infant's head. "Yes," He agreed tremulously, leaning carefully over the little body between them to brush a passionate kiss to her waiting lips. "He's _perfect_ , Satine, our perfect, darling little angel... What shall we call him?"

He knew she hadn't named him, knew she'd kept with her family's traditions of waiting until the birth and presence of both parents to choose the name for their precious baby.

The little one gave a soft cry, and startled, Obi-Wan shifted to reluctantly hand him back to his mother, who took the tiny body in her arms and nestled him against her breast, the infant searching for a moment before settling and beginning to contentedly suckle. The blanket fell open, a tiny foot- barely the length of Obi-Wan's finger- kicking out, all five toes wriggling, and he tucked it gently back inside, marveling once again at how perfect, how tiny this little human was, down to the last minute detail- the flawlessness of the nails, the exquisitely proportioned face, body and limbs...

Above the little one, Satine hummed thoughtfully, gazing down at the little face at her chest. "I hadn't thought of a name, yet..." She said, contemplating the tiny face. "Perhaps after your Master? He did, after all, bring us together..."

Obi-Wan shook his head, a wide grin on his face. "No, no, Satine, I'm sure we can both agree that- while Qui-Gon is an admirable man, my father in everything but blood, he has quite the, um, _unique_  name..."

She looked at him, one perfectly shaped eyebrow arching. "You don't like the idea, do you." He smiled again, sheepishly ducking his head.

"No, I don't. The thought is nice, but the name? Let's not." He shifted to sit beside her on the bed, a hand on their baby's stomach and the other arm wrapped around her back, his chin resting on her shoulder. "He should have a good name, a name not of his Mandalorian blood nor of his Jedi heritage, but one of his own. What do you think?"

Satine tilted her head consideringly, a finger running over the little angel's nose, and then nodded. "That's a good thought.... What about- Luke? It means 'light', and goodness knows we need more of that in the galaxy.. I came across it while reading, early on in the pregnancy, and it stuck in my mind... I kept forgetting to tell you, though."

Obi-Wan gazed wordlessly at the infant, turning the name over in his mind.

 _Luke_.

 _Yes_.

It was a good, strong name, a name their angel could be proud of.. He turned sparkling eyes to Satine, and she knew what he would say before he opened his mouth.

"Yes. Luke. Our Luke, our Light.. It's perfect." He smiled joyfully at her, a smile she'd never before seen on his face, and Obi-Wan kissed her again. His entire world was in his arms, his beautiful Satine, and their tiny, precious Luke suckling sleepily at her breast. The infant yawned, perfect lips parting into the tiniest of 'o's and the bright eyes slowly falling closed, and Obi-Wan brushed their minds together once more, sensing his baby's sleepy happiness- how _loved_ and _full_ and _warm_  he was, how _safe_  he felt in his parent's arms..

Obi-Wan could hardly bear the overwhelming waves of love he felt for his little one, his mind sending constant prayers of thanks to the Force for giving him such beautiful, exquisite beings to care for. He turned to Satine, a question on the tip of his tongue, but he stilled it as he looked at her. She rested limply against the pillows, eyes half closed and exhaustion even clearer now than it had been earlier.

Her eyes fluttered as she looked at him, wearily sending him a wordless query that he answered with a shake of his head and a smile, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "Sleep, my love," He whispered softly, adjusting himself to lie beside her on the hospital bed. "I'll tell you in the morning." She just barely nodded, already drifting away into a well deserved, dreamless sleep, and for a few moments Obi-Wan was content just watching them, brushing Satine's hair from her face and tracing the little features of their tiny angel with the tip of his finger, marveling at the perfection and beauty in such a tiny being.

Finally, the drain his tumultuous emotions left on him was too much, and he too succumbed to sleep, a protective, strong and gentle arm wrapped over Satine and their baby as he slept, even in rest cradling and protecting his two priceless treasures from possible harm.

In a different universe, the young parents would have grieved for hours together over the terribly still, tiny, deathly cold body of their little angel, only sleeping when they could not bear it any more, but in this galaxy there was no such pain, only love and joy and contentment. In this galaxy, Obi-Wan slept peacefully with his precious, tiny family in his arms, alive and safe and blessedly happy, and this would be the first of many changes in the universe that would lead the Jedi- and consequently, the Republic- to a Lighter, safer, more Balanced future..

A future in which Obi-Wan would be meant for far, far more than infinite sadness.


End file.
